Adorn Your Prison
by Hastseoltoi
Summary: Caryl; Carol once told Daryl that he was just as good as any of the others, but sometimes she has trouble seeing that she has value too. Set between seasons three and four at the prison.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Caryl fic; I've shipped this for a while, but haven't tried to write a strictly Caryl fic before. The title comes from a quote from Mary Wollstonecraft; "Taught from infancy that beauty is woman's sceptre, the mind shapes itself to the body, and roaming round its gilt cage, only seeks to adorn its prison."

* * *

It felt like a slap to the face, even though she hadn't been physically touched. She had enough of that in her life from before, and wouldn't stand for it ever again. The emotional hurts were worse in some ways because to even show that they had injured you gave them power, so those hurts had to be carefully hidden away. Carol kept her face blank, and stood at ease, waiting for the couple to pass so she could move again, hopefully before they saw she had been there.

The people from Woodbury had been innocent of most of the things that their Governor had done. Most hadn't a clue what he was doing at all, though the ones who died on the road were proof for how much that had helped them. Not at all. The Governor didn't seem to care about their fates as long as they were doing as he told them, and when their usefulness was over it no longer mattered whether they lived.

When the people of Woodbury were brought back to the prison there was an attempt to open their eyes to what Rick and the others were like. These were not the monsters that had been painted by the former Woodbury leader, they were just people trying to survive. Gradually that message seemed to sink-in and now most of the former townspeople had tasks or chores to do around the prison, fitting in and augmenting the small society that was growing. Society meant that certain things began again, and Carol didn't appreciate that one of those things was a circle of gossips who seemed to live for the drama and chaos they could create. Stupid people who had too much free time, so they filled it with trouble.

She told herself that she shouldn't care what they might say about her, but it did hurt. It brought back those insecurities that had plagued her while Ed was alive, and even after. There were times when someone had made a comment, maybe not intentionally, but it reminded her of all the reasons that she wasn't as good as they were. Like that stupid red blouse she had wanted, until Lori had made her feel guilty on the highway, as though she didn't deserve nice things.

Carol sighed, stepping out from behind the water tanks, and continued toward the small cooking station. She should be used to the comments about Daryl as well. They spent a lot of time together still, being able to trust one another in a way that the Woodbury people didn't understand yet. It led to speculation, and then jealous, hurtful comments when Daryl ignored their flirting. He didn't have to deal with those comments, or dirty looks, or he didn't notice them perhaps. Men often missed such things between women. Carol felt it all though.

It wasn't that she thought that there was any chance that Daryl might care for her in that way, she joked with him about it sometimes and he always dismissed her comments out-of-hand. So she tried to let it go and pretend that it didn't hurt to hear the comments about how he could do so much better than her. He was a good man and he did deserve better; someone who wasn't so scarred and broken by loss. Someone younger and prettier probably too.

She sighed and looked down at the cement of the prison yard as she walked quickly toward the grill. And then came to an abrupt stop as she bumped into someone.

"Hey, you okay?" Daryl had her by the upper arms, steadying her as she wavered on her feet.

"Sure, fine." She looked past him, "Just in a hurry."

He scowled and glanced back at the grill and the people already sitting at the picnic tables. "Hurry to do what, feed a bunch of lazy, ungrateful people who can't even bother to do for themselves? Any one of them could have started dinner, but they're all just sitting there waiting for someone else to do it for them." He squeezed her arms, "Screw 'em, take the night off. I got something on my last run. If you come to my cell I'll share it with ya."

Carol looked up at him, watching as he squinted into the fading light over the prison fences past her shoulders. He seemed serious, "Alright."

He seemed to hesitate before letting her go, looking at her in a way that made her wonder if there was dirt on her cheek, but finally he stepped away. "You should take a break tomorrow. Michonne and I were going to do a run, you should come with us."

"That's hardly a day off, but it might be a nice change of pace." Carol nodded, waving to Hershel as he saw them entering their cell block. "I could ask Beth to take over some of the meal organization."

Daryl grunted, opening the outer block door for her, "Maybe Beth could assign a bunch of the lazy ones to do some real chores. Or maybe that's something the Council could do." He slowed his pace as they approached the guard post he had claimed as his room. The windows were mostly blocked by towels and sheets so that he could have some privacy, but he reached over and opened one so that the fading natural light could come through. It wasn't very messy, but he shoved some clothes off of his bunk and reached underneath to pull out a small box.

When he opened the box and showed her the stash of candy bars he had saved Carol laughed, clapping her hands together in delight. "As much as I love chocolate I don't know that it is a very balanced meal."

He gave her a dirty look and handed her one of the bars before shoving the box under the bunk again. "Cause we used to have so many balanced meals out on the road." He took her shoulder again to switch places with her inside the small room, and pointed at the bunk, "Sit. I have the rest in my pack still."

She watched as he pulled out apples, catching the one he tossed at her, a jar of roasted peanuts, and a bag of beef jerky. "Road food." Carol nodded, accepting the rest of what he offered and moved over so he could sit next to her. "I have to admit, I sometimes missed the jerky. It was so easy."

"Easier than cooking for a bunch of people who never help, you mean." He gave her a long look, "I ain't blind."

Carol had just bit into the apple, and she froze for a few seconds before chewing and swallowing. He was staring at her and she wasn't sure what she was supposed to say, or even what he was referring to specifically. "I know."

Daryl snorted, leaning back against the wall behind the bunk, "I don't think you do, but I'm gonna make sure that changes. Promise you'll come with us tomorrow. It'll be good for you." He grinned around his bite of jerky, "You could stab something."

She laughed again, "That is a good selling point. Alright, I'll come out on the run tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Carol was always up bright and early, there not being a lack of chores to do at the prison. She was used to early mornings long before the dead started rising though. Ed had insisted that she make his lunch fresh every day before he went to work, and she had to get Sophia up and ready for school for most of the year. There were times when the early morning hours were the only real time she had to relax by herself, and stretch out the time for those small tasks so she could work at her own pace. Even so, now that there were real chores to do, like getting everyone up and fed for the day, she didn't balk at doing her share, and probably the share of several others as well.

Her early morning chores were the reason she was up and helping make breakfast before Daryl found her. He crossed his arms, leaning against one of the support posts for their small meal area, and watched her as she gave instructions to the two morning cooks. Her movements were graceful and efficient, showing that she had an awareness of the space around herself. It was something that Daryl had always appreciated when they had been out on the road together; a skill that was gained by experience and instinct and one that could make all the difference when confronted by walkers.

She looked over at him a few times, but since he didn't seem to be in a hurry she finished her task before approaching him. "Are you going to eat something before we go out?"

"Yeah, just wanted to grab it and go though. You ready?" Daryl continued leaning back, squinting down at her as she seemed to be trying to decide what to say.

Carol hesitated long enough, that Michonne joined them, her sword already slung over her shoulder. "Do we still have some of those granola bars? I want to grab a couple for the road."

"Yeah, I think we have several boxes still, as long as no one raided the supplies last night." Carol shrugged and Michonne walked over to the cooking area, leaning over to talk to one of the young cooks. They disappeared behind the counter for a moment, coming up with an opened box of the requested item and emptied it out into Michonne's hands. She returned to Carol and Daryl grinning as though she had just won a prize, and gave them each a couple of the wrapped bars.

"I think we're ready. Aren't we?" Daryl looked at Carol and she shrugged again, touching the knife on her belt briefly. "Good, Michonne, you wanna drive?"

"Of course I do. I don't want to end up in a ditch when you spot a deer that you'd like to shoot." She glanced at Carol and smirked, "Did he tell you how the car ended up with the dent in the front bumper?"

Carol shook her head, smiling, "No, but I'm sure it would be an interesting story for the run." She glanced at Daryl and laughed when she saw that he was scowling. "Don't pout, Pookie, I can tell you both the story of how I took off my review mirror the first week I had my driver's license."

Michonne stopped at the driver's side door and looked over the roof of the car at Daryl. He had gone to the back door on the passenger side, letting Carol take shotgun position. "Do we need to get anything else before we hit the road?"

Daryl shook his head, "Nope."

Carol shrugged, "We've got weapons and food, water and a map, what more do we need?"

She was right, and the trip was a well-planned one even though it felt last minute to Carol. Even if she had just been asked to join them the night before she knew that Daryl and Michonne had planned the short trip for more than a week and had a lot of experience going on runs together, mostly to search for clues about where the Governor may have headed.

This trip wasn't about that though, and they headed straight for a small town that was almost two hours away from the prison, by car. It was such a small town that it didn't appear on the map, and the town sign declared that it was unincorporated. It still had a gas station, a café, and a small strip mall with a variety of retail chain stores. It was a pit-stop between bigger towns, the kind of place that travelers would stop for a drink and to get gas if they were weary from driving.

"I can't imagine wanting to live in such a small place. I wonder where the residents went when everything started getting bad. You'd think that places like this might have been a bit safer if they had hunkered down and waited for the initial panic to die down." Michonne shrugged, turning in a small circle as soon as she had stepped out of the car. There wasn't anything in sight, but she wanted to be sure before they picked a store to start exploring.

"Probably went to the city; the refuge centers that were supposed to protect people." Carol frowned, "Ed was taking us to one when we got caught in a traffic snarl, and then they started dropping napalm on Atlanta so we never got any further. Those were supposed to be the safe zones where we'd be saved. I bet all of those people died."

Daryl gave her an odd look before shaking his head and pointing at one of the retail stores. "Why don't the two of you check out the clothing place while I try to get more gas for the car?" He moved to the trunk to get the extra gas can out.

Michonne and Carol looked at each other for a moment before shrugging and agreeing. It was a smaller boutique, but the window display had a few cute outfits on the mannequins, and it seemed mostly undisturbed. "I guess no one had a shopping spree here yet." Michonne rapped on the glass door and they both stepped back to see if anything would come to the entrance.

When nothing appeared after a few minutes Carol tried the door, and found it unlocked, "I guess that means we're welcome?" The store was dark, but the glass front allowed some natural light inside, and it smelled dusty from being abandoned for so long. There were racks filled with clothing, mostly women's and children's, but they ignored those until they had done a complete circuit of the store to look for hidden dangers. A back door was secured by Michonne, but they left the front door open for Daryl to rejoin them.

After the store felt more secure they dug into the rack of clothing, looking for things that could be worn in the hot summer and the colder on-coming winter. They had pulled most of the jeans and skirts when Daryl came into the store, passing them with a grunt and heading toward the small men's wear area in the back, next to a wall covered in shoes and boots.

Michonne held up a bright blue scoop-neck blouse, looking at it critically before holding it against herself and looking in the mirror. "What do you think?"

"Good color on you, but that size is probably too large." Carol glanced back at the rack she was flipping through, hesitating on a green V-neck with ¾ length sleeves. It was simple, but pretty. "We should grab a few things for the others too. Maggie could use some new clothes, and I'm sure the community supply is getting low with so many people taking things from the pile."

"You should take that one. I think Daryl would like to see you in that color." Michonne grinned, ignoring the look that crossed Carol's face at the comment, "Of course he might like it better if he could take it off of you."

Carol glanced toward the back of the store, where Daryl had gone to look for boots. They may have checked the entire store and secured the doors before splitting up, so she didn't have to worry about him getting cornered by walkers, but she did have to worry about him overhearing comments like that. "I doubt he has any interest in what colors I wear, or don't wear."

Michonne snorted, "You can keep telling yourself that, but I know better."

"Don't tell me that you've been listening to those silly gossips. They don't know anything about what's between Daryl and me, so don't believe them." Carol tucked the shirt into her pack though, telling herself that it was just because she liked the color herself.

"Oh, Carol, I don't listen to anything those stupid women say. I've just seen the way he looks at you when you aren't paying attention." She grinned and looked back at the shirt she was holding, cutting off her next remark as Daryl came back.

"Find anything good?" He didn't seem to have noticed what they had been talking about, or he didn't care.

"Lots of good things, pretty colors." Michonne held up the shirt she was still holding before shoving it in her own bag.

"Do we have time to be picky right now? We should just grab all we can carry and sort it out later." He frowned, watching as Carol's hand caressed the silk of a blouse on the rack she was searching. "We still have other stores to go through if there's room in the car."


	3. Chapter 3

Michonne had been staring at him for several long moments and he was about to twitch when something else caught her eye. Her katana was unsheathed and he took a ready position without the need for thought just as quickly. He held back and watched as she easily dispatched the walker though, appreciating her strength and capability. She was a good partner for runs and he never had to worry about her safety as he did with so many of the others.

Like Carol, though that wasn't because she was incapable of defending herself. She had proven herself over and over again while they were on the road and at the prison. He worried for other reasons. It was why he was biting his lip as they waited for her to return from a last minute stop in one of the pharmacies. She had wanted to grab a few things while they were loading the last of the food supplies into the car.

"She'll be back soon, you don't need to worry so much." Michonne was staring at him with that knowing smile again, and she tilted her head slightly as she caught his chagrin at being read so easily. "You know, when you aren't staring at her, she is staring right back at you."

He snorted, "You like to imagine things. I don't stare at her."

"Sure you don't. There must be another reason that you trip while walking across the prison yard every time she's outside doing the laundry, bent over that old hand-crank machine." Her grin was cheeky and her eyes were almost dancing with amusement. "And I must have imagined that you were fumbling with all of those forks at dinner the other night. It had nothing to do with her comment about finally getting a bra that fit correctly."

"Shut up." He was blushing now and she was enjoying it far too much. "Even If I did stare at her, I don't think she would have any reason to look back."

Michonne laughed, "You haven't looked in a mirror lately, have you?" She reached out to grip his upper arm and give it a slight squeeze. "She has plenty to stare at and she isn't the only one to do so, which is why she'll probably never say anything to you about her interest. A shame really because I could see the two of you together so easily."

He shook his head and then brushed his bangs away from his eyes, "Those women ain't got nothing I want. Carol wouldn't have any competition."

"I know that, but you need to show her that." Michonne shrugged, still grinning, and waved to Carol as the woman finally emerged from the pharmacy. "Do it soon, or I'll have to come up with a plan to get it done myself. I have a bet going on with Carl and I intend to win those candy bars."

He didn't believe Michonne, not at first, but then he started paying closer attention. Daryl could admit to himself that he did stare at Carol more than was probably appropriate for people who were supposedly just friends. He didn't stare at anyone else even half as often. He was smart enough to catch Carol staring back at him now too, looking into reflective surfaces when she was nearby so she didn't know he was looking back at her.

It shook him a little that he hadn't noticed her attention before. He was supposed to be observant. He was supposed to be strong enough to take the next step and say something too, but he could hear Merle in his head already, taunting him about his inaction. There was a woman that he wanted, and she actually seemed to want him in return, and he wasn't doing anything about it. Strong, capable people were hard to come by even among the many survivors of these times, and to find a woman who was both of those and more was a blessing that he should be grabbing at with both hands.

It took him more than a week to gather up his courage to approach her. She was in the prison yard, doing chores as usual, even though it wasn't her turn and the people assigned to the task were sitting around and chatting instead of working. Her hair picked up the late afternoon sun, shining around her face. His attention was caught by her shirt, which was unbuttoned and showing more cleavage than he was used to noticing, and he watched for several moments longer than he had planned as she scrubbed a pan. When she looked up and saw him he couldn't stand back any longer though, and he stepped forward as she fixed her sleeve and smiled up at him.

"You know, you don't have to do all of that for them. They could be taking care of these chores themselves." Daryl didn't stop until he was next to her and the make-shift sinks. He didn't like that she looked away from him as soon as he spoke, focusing on her task again as though blotting him out. "You do so much for everyone else, you should be able to have something for yourself."

She shrugged and didn't look up from her task, "Maybe."

He snorted, "You never listen." His weight shifted as he thought about how to change his approach. This talking thing wasn't his strength, but sometimes he felt as though she was purposefully misunderstanding what he tried to tell her.

"I listen. I just disagree sometimes." She glanced up at him for a moment as she finished the task, and stood. "Maybe I want to get these things done without having to listen to someone whine and complain and then claim not to know how to do it at all. Maybe I just want to be doing something myself, so I can feel useful." She frowned at him for a moment, "I don't need you to save me from chores."

"Are you sure about that?" Daryl gestured toward some of the former Woodbury residents who were sitting in the prison yard, chatting and drinking the cans of soda that had been found on their recent run. "You should get to enjoy some of the stuff we find. The stuff that you found and risked your life to get. You deserve some of that too, you know. And some of those people deserve to get a kick in the ass because they don't do a damn thing around here except talk."

He scowled, looking at a group of the gossipy women, and Carol followed his gaze. They were some of the women who had been vocal about what they thought that Daryl deserved, and it was someone better than Carol. They seemed to think that the archer was in a relationship with her, and she paled a little as she wondered how much Daryl knew about their gossip.

"I don't mind doing the work, and it has to get done." Carol stared at him directly now, wondering at his reaction to those people.

"I'm not going to argue with you like this, going in circles. I just think that you deserve more than what you're getting, and all you need to do to get it is to ask." He looked away from the group of women, catching Carol's eye, "Sometimes we might think that we don't deserve what we want, even when it is exactly what we need."

"And what is it that I need?" Carol's head tilted to the side, dubiously, and she wondered why that question made him flush.

"You want a list?" He looked away from her again, down toward the prison yard where Rick had goaded Carl into helping with the garden work. "I just don't want you to deny yourself something because other people are jackasses about it."

She froze in place, not daring to look at him again, "Maybe I've learned over time that when I want something I usually don't get it."

"And maybe it's time to forget the past and ask for what you want because you might get it this time." He took a step closer to her and their arms touched for a moment before she shivered and stepped away. She looked up at him again, biting her lip and looking into his eyes. She wasn't sure if he was suggesting what she thought he was suggesting, and she had to see if there was a hint of it in his face. He was staring at her intently, his face serious.

"Daryl-." She stopped and he moved forward so suddenly she felt as though she were a mouse being swooped down upon by a hawk. There wasn't a chance to react before his lips were pressing against her mouth, and her whole body tensed in surprise. He jerked back away from her, flushing again. "What?"

Daryl shuffled his feet slightly, "Sorry, I thought that maybe you were going to say something finally, instead of just staring at me like Michonne said you were doing."

Carol shook her head slightly, "I was going to say something else, but for the life of me I can't remember what it was anymore."

"So you don't want that?" He looked up toward the prison, where most of their friends, their family, were standing outside and watching them.

"I didn't say that. I was going to say something else, but . . . that doesn't mean that I don't want." She hesitated, "You know."

He snorted again, "We're a fine pair, can't even say the words." He looked at her for a moment, "Do you want me?"

"Yes." She glanced toward the group of gossips who were also staring at them, with twisted expressions. "I just don't know why you would want me."

He snorted, "I'd ask if you were stupid, but I know you ain't." He gestured toward the gossips, "Not a single woman here can touch you or what you got. Not a single one. You're strong, a survivor, and you're smart."

"Maggie and Michonne are strong and smart." Her voice showed every hesitation that she felt, but she had to say it anyway.

"Maggie and Michonne could both kick my ass, but you're more than that." He reached out again, not liking her instinctual flinch as he touched the side of her face. "I'm not good with this stuff, with the words. I just know how I feel about you, and want you to know how I feel about you because you need to know that you are more than what you see in yourself. I remember when you told me that I was every bit as good as Rick or Shane. Well, you are better than anyone else I know. That's why I want you."

"Because I have skills." She glanced up from the dirt yard, but only for a few seconds before looking back toward their friends at the next set of fences.

Daryl sighed, "Not listening, again. You have skills and they are attractive, but you are more than just that. You are beautiful to me and I've been watching for a long time so I've seen more than you might think." He smirked, "More than you might like."

Carol look at him directly again, "And you're sure?"

"Abso-freaking-lutely." He took her arm and she let him lead her across the prison yard toward their cell block. "And if you don't believe me we can ask Michonne since she's got a bet on it."

"I want to believe you, but it seems too good to be true." She kept following as they approached their friends, "I don't know why I'm even questioning it."

"I don't either and it's making me rethink the whole smart thing I said before. Come on, I wanna tell the others so it's official and you can't back out. Maybe they can take care of those bitches from Woodbury so I won't have to shoot anyone later." He hurried her along to the fence-line where Michonne, Rick, Carl and Maggie were standing, keeping one hand on her elbow so she couldn't slow down or escape.

"We've talked, so stop pushing." Daryl gave Michonne a dark look but shook his head and smiled before turning to Carol again. "No take-backs after this."

She nodded, "No take-backs," and she let him kiss her again.


End file.
